


A Very Bad Night

by whatabadchoice



Series: Tuesdays [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, hotel au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8456761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatabadchoice/pseuds/whatabadchoice
Summary: It’s awful. It’s not a good night. In fact it’s bad bad bad. First of all, it’s Monday. Which means Castiel hasn’t seen Mr. Smith in six days. It feels like fourteen, with the way it’s been going so far. This weekend was hell, with at least 40 rooms full of young people wanting to party. The police actually responded to his calls by name by  the end of the weekend.
 
And tonight isn’t any better.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hey! haha I forgot to keep updating this, oops. But now I'm writing every day again, so it should be coming along soon! (The end is written, just the boring middle parts that are hard to convince myself to write, expecially while I have lots of projects! lawl)

April 20th

 

It’s awful. It’s not a good night. In fact it’s bad bad bad. First of all, it’s Monday. Which means Castiel hasn’t seen Mr. Smith in six days. It feels like fourteen, with the way it’s been going so far. This weekend was hell, with at least 40 rooms full of young people wanting to party. The police actually responded to his calls by name by the end of the weekend.

 

And tonight isn’t any better.

 

In fact it’s worse. And Castiel knows it as soon as he steps foot into the workplace.

 

It’s 10:45 and Crowley is waiting at the front desk with a very nervous Anna. When Castiel looks at her in askance, she just minutely shakes her head and bites her lip.

 

This is about Clark.

 

The night before, the Clark family had come in late at night, looking absolutely desperate and soaking wet from the surprise rain that evening. Castiel had tried to explain that without a functioning credit card, he was unable to do the check in. The father had tried everything, offered to find a bank machine nearby as soon as they could rest. 

 

Normally, Castiel is adamant on payment. Normally, he follows the rules to a T and doesn’t open himself up to risks like letting a soaking wet family settle in before demanding a credit card. But… The daughter had yawned widely and Castiel couldn’t…

 

Damn it.

 

This was definitely about the Clarks.

 

He shuffles down the stairs, wishing there was a way to delay the inevitable as he makes his way to the employee’s room. 

 

It’s just…What was he supposed to do? Insist they go back out into the rain and find a bank machine? Well, I guess, yeah. He could have done that. As he shrugs off his trenchcoat and straightens his tie, he can’t help but further justify the situation to himself. No. He stands by his decision. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do, and maybe they hadn’t ended up paying and he was about to be charged the price of a room by his penny pinching boss, but at the very least he could live with himself. (Although paying rent was always a good way to be able to live, with himself or otherwise, too.)

 

Regardless, as soon as he enters the backroom of the front desk, Castiel squares his shoulders. Crowley has never scared him, not really, and he won’t start tonight.

 

“Castiel,” Crowley rumbles, gesturing for Castiel to enter into his office. “Glad you’re early,” he continues with a dangerous smile. “Thought we might have a bit of a chat.”

 

Instead of answering, Castiel bites back a sigh, walking into the drab room with what he hopes wasn’t a scowl. The room is littered with papers, stacks of files that seem to be teetering on the edge of falling and in no particular order at all. Crowley expertly retrieves his mouse from under a questionable magazine with scantily clad women on the cover.

 

“I think you know why you’re here,” he says, and Castiel grits his teeth. His tone is just so… _disrespectful_. But Castiel holds his tongue. The only way to survive at a low paying, low pressure, mind-numbingly uninteresting job is to treat everything as if it is happening to someone else. 

 

He shrugs.

 

"Actually I don't. What can I do for you, sir?" 

 

God, the taste of that word in his mouth is actually bitter. It's times like these when Castiel remembers every bad moment experienced in the field of customer service. Every time a customer has treated him poorly, disrespected him, said something completely entitled, Castiel has smiled and nodded and given them exactly what they asked. That's what his job consists of. But it's somewhat depressing to sit in a sad little office, and take it from the person who initially hired him. Still, he says the word, and tries to think good thoughts so that his scent does not betray him through his freshly applied blockers.

 

"So you're saying you don't remember the Clarks?" 

 

Castiel makes a show of tilting his head, considering his rebuttal options. Pleading sometimes works with Crowley; the bastard's ego is big enough to fill the entire hotel. Another option is defiance. Crowley does appreciate pluck -- he says it's the reason he hired Anna, after all. But Castiel isn't sure what the best route is, so he goes with honesty.

 

"Hmm, yes, I do remember them actually," he says slowly. Okay, maybe not complete honesty.

 

"So you recall having let them into their room without a payment," Crowley answers, eyebrow lifting with the statement. 

 

"I recall receiving payment four hours after their initial check in, yes," Castiel replies steadily. He fights to keep his tone neutral and prays the annoyance doesn't tinge his scent.

 

"So you admit that you failed to follow procedure by not taking a payment before giving the guest access to the room?" Crowley replies instantly. Castiel stifles a sigh.

 

"Yes, but-" he begins, but Crowley just waves his hand.

 

"That's quite enough," he says dismissively. "You have been working here for ten years and yet you failed to perform a simple task."

 

"The guest in question left a copy of their identification. They simply wished to get warm and comfortabel before having to--"

 

"This is a _business_ , Castiel," Crowley cuts in. Castiel grinds his teeth at the accented pronunciation of his name. Cas- _tee_ -el. Why does that make him feel like a chastised child? 

 

"I am aware."

 

"Well it seems you were confused about this the other night, when you let someone into a room without payment, potentially costing us the price of a suite on an occupied evening..."

 

"We were at 32% occupancy," Castiel mumbles, but Crowley isn't listening.

 

"I always thought it was weird for an Alpha to be in this position for so long. But generally, you don't cause much trouble so I let it slide... But I should have known. Too much heart, for an Alpha. Aren't you guys supposed to be about the four F's? Fighting, feeding, fleeing and..." Crowley sniffs at Castiel in disdain. "Well, maybe not four Fs for you."

 

Castiel is appalled. They may be weres, and Crowley's Beta nose is unlikely to pick up much of his scent unless he is looking for it, but to _sniff_ another person openly... Castiel does his best not to give away the anger boiling under his skin. 

 

"I don't see how my sexual preferences or habits affect my work ethic," Castiel replies coolly. Then again, his work ethic isn't the best if he's giving away rooms, according to Crowley.

 

"Well, apparently it is," Crowley replies, and shuffles papers around until one is sitting in front of Castiel. "Sign this. The next time you make this kind of mistake, you'll have to find some other under paying job. And you'd better hope it's not in the hotel industry."

 

Castiel looks down at the paper in front of him. "... guilty of misconduct... I understand my responsibility... final warning..." Castiel bits his tongue, signing on the dotted line, jaw clenched. Crowley's right. He could find a better job, maybe. One where at least he is respected by his superiors... but Castiel knows what he deserves. 

 

Besides, regardless of whether or not the man paid, Crowley is right again: Castiel failed to take a payment. The cold and shivering family could just as easily have been conning Castiel into a free night at the hotel. As an employee, he should feel embarrassed. As an Alpha, he _is_ an embarrassment. He knows. But this slip-up isn't the first time he's been made aware of his shortcomings when it comes to his biology, and it's unlikely to be the last. Once again repressing a sigh, Castiel moves to the front desk and resumes his night. He hears Crowley exit a few minutes afterwards, and hopes his expression is sincere when he wishes him a good evening. Castiel, it seems, is unlikely to have that luxury.


End file.
